Ah!!bugger...

I wish the world was a smaller place, The poles, not so distant, Boundaries, undefined. I wish the world was a smaller place, The peaks, not so unassailable, Depths, less frightful. I wish the world was a smaller place, The places, not so asunder, Distances, surmountable. I wish the world was a smaller place, The people, not so lost, Desires, realizable. I wish the world was a smaller place, for its magnitude frightens me now. Its fickle nature, haunts me. Far removed from comfort, into the concrete wilderness that we roam, stuck in a cycle of everyday grind, instilled with flickering hope and ever dwindling courage to carry on, further and further, till there is nothing left to fight for, into the darkness, where not a morsel of courage remains, but only the dying embers of the long forgotten hope, that one day, it will all be worth it. Was it worth it, is it ever worth it? Our lives, etched with sacrifice, for a glorious higher purpose, that we never realize. Mayb

I had a corner seat to the left, three rows from the back. It was the second day of classroom training in Mysore and we were in the midst of the irritating L&D(Learning and Development) sessions. Basically, those were three days of English and communication classes that I thoroughly hated because they involved communication and people skills, both of which I lack and have no interest in acquiring. We were given a task, speak to five random people in the classroom, introducing yourself and start a conversation with them. So here I was, making no effort whatsoever to introduce myself to random strangers, when the guy who sat in the last row, directly behind me, came over. " Hi, Dhruva! Tui bangali?" That is how I first met Dhruva. We didn't have the longest conversation at that point, but I distinctly remember, the very next time we spoke, later in the evening, his first question was, "Baba fukish to?" I was like, "What the hell is 'Baba'!&q

It's been a while. Hi! I've almost forgotten how it feels to write. I have trouble enough putting thoughts into words as it is, so I reckoned a few bottles of beer could put my melancholy into something more productive. Here goes. It has been a dark year which shows no promise of relenting. I could speak of my troubles, but I figured, how uncool is that. So what then? Well, it hasn't been all doom and gloom fortunately. Amidst the mass of overbearing clouds and claps of thunder, shines bright a silver lining. A sliver of joy, bright enough to help uphold a facade of sanity, even normalcy perhaps as I tread on mundane, muddy waters far removed from the comforts of home. Well, that completes the abstract introduction, now onto the story then. Sagnik was harping on about a trip for a while now, although I had my reservations. You see, it wasn't the usual, 'Let's all go get drunk at Goa over the weekend' kind of plan, which is very doable under any

If you're reading this, then congratulations are in order, because we all made it through another year. A feather in our cap/hat/toupee wherever you'd like it. Do I reminisce on the year gone by, or do I put forth my set of new year resolutions for the year to come ( I know, I know, those never work, but one can always hope). Maybe wander off in a whole new trajectory of abstractness? That could be fun. So here goes, If you're ever passing by the park next to the 17th and B, look up the tall maple tree. High up in the branches, you will find a story of hope. Sitting atop the branches, cradled in her nest, is little Boo. A tiny beak, a sleek coat of blue feathers with a dash of purple, and the brightest little eyes you'll ever see. Every morning, Boo awakes to the sound of music. The songs of the birds, soaring high above in the sky, gliding with the wind, singing out in joy as the morning sun erupts over the horizon. Boo gazes up through the gap in the maple lea